Outsides Look Cool, Insides Are Blue
by DrunkOnJerichohol
Summary: The McMahons were a brood marred by the rigors of mortality, heartache, and addiction, and Stephanie aimed to be the sole savior of the group. In the most contrary of ways, she discovers the necessity in teaching her loved ones the power of saving themselves - - from themselves. (WWF/WCW era story)
1. Bottle of Whiskey, Pint of Bud

******Disclaimer**: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Any and all original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

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She pledged to act as the glue that would systematically piece her broken family back together.

Her committed undertaking of that oath hadn't been enough.

Her markedly ardent efforts were never enough.

"Stephanie, this house is a pigsty! Look at this mess!" Vince blistered. No matter how desperately she wanted to flee to cease her pain, her father wasn't to be ignored, and running would only result in a temporary solution to a much bigger problem. Stephanie trudged onward, one uncertain step after another, halting only when the kitchen counter got in her way and acted as a barrier between her and Vince. "Dishes piled up in the sink, dirty plates with food still on the table, what the hell is this? I don't ask a lot of you, so the _least _you can do is clean up around here!"

"I accidentally fell asleep early last night, so I never got around to them. I'll clean up right now," she heard herself say, long before she was able to process her own response. The fact was, Vince _did_ ask a lot of her. Perhaps the alcohol was clouding his memory and judgment, but his outrage towards Stephanie was absurd. Not only did she make the bulk of the money that went towards supporting them and paying their bills but she also took ownership of all daily chores in and around the household. That being said, the solid facts didn't change the realization that it was still easier to let her father's rants slide than to confront him, so that's the path she chose.

_Remain passive. _

The sustenance of Stephanie's submissive behavior was a skill, or tactic, rather, she often used to stop her father right in his ill-tempered tracks and had transformed into a coping mechanism in her everyday life. The reality that Vince was coming down on her too hard or that she didn't agree with his constant cavils was insignificant. All that mattered was that she said whatever it would take to silence the argument, and the rest would come later. In more trying times, when Stephanie was thrust back into the spiraling grief she first felt upon losing her mother a little over four years ago, it was immeasurably more difficult to jump her life's hurdles.

An automobile — a basic mode of transportation, with the sole purpose to shuttle an occupant from Point A to Point B — had transformed into an unsuspected death trap, which inadvertently collided with another vehicle and cost Linda her life. Stephanie crumbled, Vince and Shane crumbled, the WWF talent crumbled, and right along with their downfall came the collapse of the family business they had all strived so eagerly to build. The jubilant life they knew flickered out like an extinguished flame, Shane fled across the country as a means of escaping his suppressive sorrow, and Vince found repose in alcohol. The imposing businessman and father Stephanie had known all her life had resorted to alcoholism, and instead of choosing for him a hasty sendoff to rehab, she took on the full role and responsibilities of caretaker.

Stephanie held him close because, in a winding row of dominoes, he was the final to be left standing in her hectic life, but if something didn't change soon, she would be burying her father right beside her mother. The morbidity of that thought chilled her to the bone and sent an arctic shiver down her spine, so she did the only thing she could as a distraction, which happened to be obeying her father and washing the dishes. She worked diligently and breathed a sigh of relief when Vince, satisfied with her compliance, crossed the room and disappeared into the next one. Stephanie kept one eye trained on the silverware in the sink and the other on the ticking clock, because she didn't have long before it would be time to get dressed for work.

A brief shower and change of clothes after her completion of the dirty dishes brought her down to 30 minutes before her scheduled shift, and by the time she grabbed her purse and shuffled back into the living room to say goodbye to Vince, she was 26 minutes closer to the start of her workday. Bartenders most commonly preferred to work exclusively during the night shift, but Stephanie's shift began in the afternoon and brought her into the early evening. That particular schedule may not have gelled well for most in her profession, but it made sense to her and fit around life's priorities. It also afforded Stephanie the opportunity to be home with her dad at night and keep a well-trained eye on his drinking, not that she was always enough to stop him.

Still, it assuaged her fears to, at the very least, be around to monitor his behavior.

"Dad?" she whispered. His eyelids were closed and fluttering and his breathing steady, but he wasn't snoring like he normally did, so she wasn't convinced he had fallen into a slumber. Biting her bottom lip and sending a warning look to her wristwatch in hopes her withering stare would force time to slow, though the seconds still ticked by with stealthy precision, Stephanie reached down to tap Vince's exposed arm. The fright of her unexpected touch sprang him into alertness, as his eyes snapped open and made a wild sweep over the entire room before focusing in on Stephanie.

"What...what's going on?" he rushed out.

Disorientation rang clear in his expression and tone, a pair of dark spots forming melancholy arcs beneath both eyes and enclosed between two pale, gaunt cheeks. The past stubble that masked his cleft chin had metamorphosed into a bristly forest of fuzz that was almost begging to be shorn like a lawn mower powering through brimming greenery. Stephanie always had to beg him to shave, promised it would make him more refined, and it appeared the time had come back around, full circle, for her to convince him once again. His appearance was a far cry from the clean-shaven, crackerjack of a man the masses had once known. As he sat before his daughter, Vince was a shell of his former self, and it showed in more ways than one.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Stephanie apologized. "I'm going to work, and I just wanted you to know, but I'll be back no later than nine. I can bring something for dinner if you want."

"I don't have much money."

"It's all right, I'll make enough in tips today to buy food," she reasoned. Vince rarely paid for what few possessions they actually had, and on a daily basis, Stephanie either prepared their meals at home or went out and bought something herself, so it didn't make sense that he would behave as if his not having money mattered, when it never had in the first place. Regardless, it brought her a small twinge of satisfaction to know he cared about helping, even through his alcohol-induced haze.

"Bring me some whiskey tonight."

"You already have whiskey, Dad."

"I don't want to run out."

"I'll do it, but I can't keep enabling you to be like this."

"To be like _what_?" he challenged, as roaring indignation spread through his pupils with all the ease of streaming gasoline and ignited a fire in the darkest depths of his eyes. Vince was conscious of the intent her words conveyed but, instead, chose the alternative of being difficult and searching for a fight. Not only was Stephanie not in the mood, but time was slipping away, so she cut their conversation short.

_Remain passive. _

"It's nothing, I've gotta go. Love you, Dad," she leaned down to kiss his cheek and darted out the front door before he got the chance to challenge her any more than he already had.

The Hilton Hotel in Hartford, Connecticut was Stephanie's main source of refuge and, oftentimes, it acted as the _sole_ source. No matter how strenuous the problems she faced at home, work was a welcome relief from the tendrils of a broken life that often imprisoned her in their unforgiving clutches. The hotel bar, ironically enough, was the platform which supplied her source of income and allowed her the opportunity to make quick, easy money working as a bartender. Though it may have seemed her choice in jobs was some sort of twisted shot at her father, Stephanie preferred occupations that were heavily based in tips, because it allowed her to crank her charm dial to ultra-high level in order to get what she so desired, which just so happened to be cold, hard cash.

With the doors of her 1996 BMW 328i shut and locked, Stephanie tossed the straps of her purse over her shoulder, tennis shoes slapping against the pavement as she rambled inside. She sent a final glance across the parking lot at her luxury vehicle, one of the final presents she had received from her parents when they had been doing well financially and still had a business to speak of. With everything ripped away so viciously and the lavish lifestyle she had always known evaporating in seconds, Stephanie learned very quickly what was truly important in life, and it certainly wasn't owning the latest expensive vehicle. Her heart was with her family: father, brother, and mother in the heavens above.

Only three hours into work, the familiar ache of exertion began in her upper arms and radiated down to her wrists after the first few dozen times she had to shake the cocktail tin to complete whatever tasty concoction her customer's heart desired. Stephanie would never have foreseen working a "regular" job like most people had to, and making less than minimum wage was the pits, but the plentiful amount she collected in tips each night more than made up for all other shortcomings. Other than a kind smile and brief nod hello to the other servers who shared the same space with her behind the bar, Stephanie kept to herself, aside from the occasional lighthearted banter with a customer. It wasn't until the afternoon hours snuck away from her, and night fell with a quiet stealth, that a new patron slid into a spinning stool adjacent to the bar.

"Hi, can I get a beer?" he asked. His smile was charming and trailed all the way up to his mellow gaze, so much so that Stephanie's eyes fell into a haphazard squint as she attempted to make out the color of _his_ eyes, but the bar's rather dim light source wouldn't allow.

"Sure, one sec," she nodded. While Stephanie turned her back to seize a clean cup from the lengthy row of sanitized glassware, a degree of cleanliness her father would undoubtedly appreciate had he been present, a twinge of recognition slowed her down. After a brief few seconds of hesitation, she took a gradual spin around to get another glimpse of the enchanting stranger and found him to be peering back with an equal amount of unabashed wonder. Glancing down at the empty cup in her hand, she shook her jumbled head free of the cobwebs and met his gaze. "Sorry, I forgot to ask what kind of beer you wanted."

"I guess that's a pretty important detail to find out, huh?" he teased, taking care to use a tone that would ensure she knew he was only ribbing her. The sudden onset of an intense heatwave coursed through Stephanie's cheeks and briefly altered her facial pigmentation to match that of a ripe tomato, but if the man in question was having as hard of a time seeing through the dark as she was, he hadn't noticed anything amiss. A faux pas wasn't nearly as tough to bear when she could enact it while remaining at least partially incognito.

"I'm sorry. I'm just...sometimes I...distracted."

"Yeah, it's easy to get distracted," he nodded, and if she wasn't wholeheartedly mortified before, that very sentiment was now settling deep in the pits of her stomach. Not only had he probably concluded she was nothing more than a vacuous bimbo who was struggling through what most likely appeared to be her first night behind the bar, but now he would assume it was her first time speaking the English language as well, since she couldn't seem to form any coherent sentences. Tucking some stray hair behind her right ear, Stephanie paused just long enough to take a regrouping breath and allow herself the time to form a decent thought before she opened her mouth again.

"So, what exactly would you like?"

"For you to relax," he winked, and she caught a clear shot of the gesture, even through the dusk that had fallen on the room.

Following a sharp intake of breath that escaped her in the form of a light sigh, Stephanie twirled a strand of her hair around her finger, a nervous habit, and let out a stunted chuckle. "I'm really sorry. I'm normally so good at my job, I swear tonight's just an anomaly. I probably seem new, but I've actually worked here for a long time."

"No, you're doing fine, I have no complaints. What kind of beer do you like?" the man asked, and she was relieved by the sudden change in conversation. Stephanie glanced both ways down the bar, left then right, wanting to make sure her other customers were taken care of and that nobody was waiting on anything. Finding everyone content as could be, she returned all focus to the fine specimen in front of her. His hair was long and blond, secured from his face in a low ponytail, and though she couldn't place him right away, Stephanie had a nagging suspicion she knew him from somewhere.

"Me?"

"Yeah, you," he repeated.

"Oh, well, I try to stay away from the stuff. My dad's an alcoholic and, yeah, he drinks way too much, so I try not to really drink at all. I save alcohol for mostly just special occasions."

"So you don't like Bud?"

"No, I do, but I try to steer clear," Stephanie explained as she made a feeble steering motion with her hands. If it had been possible for her to raise a foot and supply her own self with a firm kick in the ass, she would have completed that task without hesitation. Here sat an alluring man, attempting to order a drink and get to know her, and she was tossing said opportunity away by behaving with all the brilliance of a high school dropout attending a Mensa meeting. The previous warmth that dissipated from her cheeks returned with a vengeance as she trailed a hand down the side of her face. "I'm sorry, I'm just not myself tonight."

"You sure apologize a lot," he smiled. Before, he appeared pleasant enough, but now, he seemed genuinely amused. It, in turn, made Stephanie realize the humor in the situation and actually served as a calming agent to her nerves, at least somewhat. "I think you've said sorry to me at least four or five times since I sat down."

"Oh, sor..." she trailed off.

"See, you were gonna say it again," he pointed out, before releasing his humor in the form of a chortle and, soon, Stephanie found her laughter falling in perfect harmony with his. It wasn't the typical forced laughter she had grown so accustomed to but, instead, was a real, _genuine_ giggle. "Can I get a pint of Bud for me and whatever you want, on me?"

"I've got a Bud coming right up, and thanks for the offer, but I'm not much in a drinking mood."

Still holding the glass she initially chose, Stephanie strode to the taps and filled it, wiping the excess foam away before bringing the glass down on the bar with a solid clink. The man smiled at her in thanks and picked the beverage up right away, wasting no time savoring a gulp of the ice cold liquid. Stephanie had a full view of his eyes, his only physical feature that stood out under the minimal lighting, and even with the drink tilted and flowing freely into his mouth, he didn't take his eyes off of her the entire time. Stephanie returned the stare, enchanted and unable to look away, as he plunked his glass down and wiped his mouth with the small, square napkin she had placed on the bar for that very purpose.

After an abrupt throat clearing, he dropped his elbows atop the bar, clasping his hands in front of himself while he studied her. "What's your name?"

"Stephanie."

"Hi, Stephanie. I'm Chris."

"It's nice to meet you," she replied. Longing to know more about him, Stephanie stepped up and took the initiative. "What do you do?"

"This is going to sound a little funny, but I'm actually a wrestler for a living."

Eyes widening in surprise, the scrambled puzzle pieces spread about in her mind began to form a more clear and vivid picture. "What kind of wrestler?"

"Pro."

"Who do you work for?"

"WCW."

"You're in WCW?" she asked in a hushed tone.

"Yeah, do you watch?"

"No...yes...well, sometimes," she stumbled, curling both hands around the edge of the bar to steady herself.

Given Stephanie's life history, it was no wonder she had found him familiar if he was a WCW wrestler, but carrying on with him in such a casual setting felt a bit like consorting with the enemy. Ultimately, Chris was a wrestler who worked for the opposing company — the very wrestling organization who had competed against her own family's former operation. The tragic outcome of events for the McMahons hadn't been the fault of World Championship Wrestling, not by any means, but within Stephanie lay a great loyalty for what had once been the World Wrestling Federation. After losing Linda and witnessing the WWF sinking past the point of recovery, she saw many a wrestler lose their jobs, some of them being hired by WCW before the situation grew too dire, and it was because of those circumstances Stephanie couldn't shake the feeling she shouldn't be talking to Chris.

He was part of a business that had been stolen right out from underneath her family, all due to the unfair handouts of fate, and it left her unsettled, to say the least. Within her resided a shred of resentment that was just threatening to blow, but she managed to anchor it for fear of taking her fury out on someone who didn't deserve any part of it. Chris, and all the other men in WCW, were the personification of a business that hadn't missed a beat in the wake of Stephanie and her family's absence, and there was no way to erase the pain that brought to her. While she couldn't completely shun an innocent man over a situation that was no fault of his own, every pulse in her body was directing her to flee the situation.

"You're Chris Jericho," she acknowledged after finally connecting the dots.

"Yeah."

"I thought I recognized you from somewhere, so I guess that's why. What are you doing in Hartford?"

"We had a show earlier this evening."

"Here?"

"Yeah."

"Where are the other guys?" she questioned.

"They're around. A few of them are driving from the arena and are gonna meet me here in a little bit."

"Oh, well, its been nice meeting you. I should clean up back here while I have a free moment, but give me a holler if you need anything else."

"Uh, before you go, I don't mean to come off like a pig or a womanizer, because I swear I don't do this to every girl I see..." Chris trailed off.

Stephanie anticipated what was coming even before the words left his mouth, either because she was really intuitive or because men were almost entirely transparent in their intentions. Chris clearly wanted something out of her, whether it was a date, companionship, a casual outing, or some combination of those things. An issue arose in that Stephanie was already spread about as thinly as she could manage between her job, keeping tabs on Shane, and caring for both her father and herself. The honest truth was that Chris was cute, they had a deep-rooted wrestling background in common — even if he wasn't presently aware of that fact — and he was easy to talk to, but that's where all similarities ceased. There was a fine line between customer and companion, and Stephanie's only duty when behind the bar was to get in, make money, and get out.

"I'll be around if you need a refill," Stephanie spoke, not allowing him to finish his thought. In her mind, she could revert the conversation back to her job duties and escape what was coming, but it didn't seem to work.

"Hey, hold on a sec. I just need to ask you something."

"Yeah?"

"Are you, by any chance, single?"

"Yes, and I'm not really looking."

"Oh," he answered, his proverbial bubble popping like a balloon. Her revelation put an obvious damper on what was, up until then, a pleasant encounter. Chris looked heartsick, and Stephanie just felt plain old sick. Her response enforced the point she had set out to make, but there were plenty of less harsh ways to say it, and she longed to amend what had probably been at least a bit of a blow to Chris's pride. "Well that sort of ruins my original plan, but if I could get your number, we can still talk. It doesn't have to be a serious thing. We can just keep in touch, if you want."

"Under normal circumstances, I'd go for that, but I don't really have time to talk. I live with my dad, and I'm taking care of him because he's not well," she paused, seeking her next words out and choosing them carefully before continuing. "I'm at a point where my focus really needs to be on my family. I don't mean that as an insult to you, it's just _me_."

"Yeah, no, it's cool," he answered as he picked his beer up and took another swallow, probably trying to gulp down his disappointment.

She craved a distraction, anything to keep from having to further witness the wounded look on his face, so she picked up a wet rag from the soapy water bucket underneath the counter and shuffled to the other side of the bar, where the stools were unoccupied. She swished the rag over the wooden counter and cringed when she thought back to how quickly such a pleasant conversation had taken a nose dive. Chris seemed to be a really nice guy and had talent in waves, from what she had seen of his matches on television. She was probably doing him a favor in the end, because a guy like Chris didn't need to waste his time getting caught up in a relationship with a girl like her.

As much as they had in common, their paths in life remained too opposing to create a successful mergence between the two. After stopping to refill the glasses of a few patrons near the end of the bar, Stephanie noticed a jumble of voices she hadn't heard before and glanced over to find a group of three men, all muscular and fit, standing at Chris's side as he enjoyed what appeared to be a casual talk with them. Stephanie recognized all three men as fellow WCW wrestlers: Dean Malenko, Chris Benoit, and Eddie Guerrero. She spied their chat as innocuously as possible while collecting the tips left behind by customers who had already flitted away to proceed with the remainder of their night. It became apparent the group made plans to go elsewhere when Chris stood from his seat, took one last sip from his beer mug, and reached into his pants pocket to retrieve a roll of cash and toss some money down on the bar.

"Leaving so soon?" she asked, and the words rushed out of her mouth before she had a chance to reel them back in. She was taken aback by her own forwardness and hoped Chris hadn't heard, but the fact that all four men's eyes were fixed on hers told her otherwise. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."

"There you go apologizing again," Chris shook his head but sent her a charming smile, one which she gladly returned. "I'm heading out, but it was a pleasure to meet you, Stephanie. Thanks for such great service."

"It was no problem," she answered. He began walking away, and before the group got too far, she overheard one of the other guys firing off questions about who she was and what they had talked about. A perplexing sense of seclusion washed over her as he crossed the room, and the further away Chris got, the more pressing her urge to run and catch him.

Stephanie wanted to grasp his arm, whirl him around, and give him her phone number, just as he requested earlier. She wanted to talk to him on the phone whenever she was sad, stressed about her father, or missing her mother. She wanted to tell him he was the nicest guy she'd met in so long and that she could really use a friend, or even just someone to lend an ear every once in a while. Instead, she did nothing except stand behind the counter and watch as his commanding figure grew smaller...and smaller...even _smaller_...until he finally disappeared out the door with his friends.

She did nothing to stop him.

_Remain passive. _


	2. Seeking Contact

The wooden swing in the backyard carried Stephanie to and fro as she skimmed the grass below, the tall blades ticking the soles of her feet. With her head nodded off against the piece of rope that was knotted at the top and holding the swing in place, she spied her cell phone, willing her fingers to dial the appropriate number. Against all reason and logic, Stephanie had falsely called in sick to work a couple minutes earlier, despite the fact that she could have really used the money she would have made. With Vince no longer actively employed, they were struggling more with each passing day, and that was where Shane entered the picture.

There were numerous times he demanded Stephanie contact him if she ever needed help, and Shane had already sent wired money, on more than a few occasions, when Stephanie needed assistance with their bills. Caring for the household was a job Stephanie was doing all on her own and, when it overwhelmed her and grew mentally taxing, she considered Shane the main shoulder to lean on. Stephanie made it a point not to attempt living above their means and, in trying to decrease their overall cost of living, Vince and Stephanie had made the move from costly Greenwich to the more reasonable Hartford long ago. Their single mode of transportation, her four-year-old BMW, had become the latest focus of Stephanie's plan to downgrade their expenses and retain as much money as possible.

While the bus system wasn't an ideal option to bring her to and from work, Stephanie's main considerations were to pay their outstanding bills using the fast money that would come from selling her car and, in doing so, would make alternate arrangements to travel to work. Public transportation wasn't a choice she was thrilled to make but served as a viable selection. Before rushing ahead of herself, Stephanie dialed Shane's home number, praying he or Marissa would pick up and offer great words of wisdom. The line rang several times, and she grunted her disapproval and ended the call when the useless answering machine kicked in.

In the wake of the loss of their business, Shane had put his degree and work experience to good use and landed a job as a corporate communications manager for the ESPN offices in Burbank, California. He was well on his way to a six-figure salary, and that drove Stephanie to check into completing her degree. The major she declared had been communications, but she only completed the first semester of sophomore year before life crashed down around her and no longer allowed for the major work load she had been carrying. The inability to complete college was one of her major regrets in life, but with a confidence boost from Shane and some financial assistance, Stephanie was certain she could reach her educational goals.

Achieving her dreams would simply take additional time and, luckily for Stephanie, that was one of the few possessions she held in abundance.

Time was all she had.

"Hand, please," Lizzie flashed a charming smile, tilting her head and holding her hand out while she waited.

Stephanie raised her left hand, since she was holding a refreshing glass of lemonade in the other, and Lizzie took it in her own and began painting her index fingernail with the royal blue shade Stephanie chose from her personal nail polish collection. Spending time alone caused the day to drag worse than before, so Stephanie had called her friend to the rescue. They rested atop Stephanie's bed with the door shut, since it was late afternoon and Vince was sleeping in the next room over. Darkness hadn't yet fallen, but Vince had secured his drink fix and passed out in bed.

"I think I'm in trouble," Stephanie admitted.

"Why? Is it because of your dad's drinking?" Lizzie assumed.

"Yeah, but it's more than that."

Lizzie's brow furrowed, though whether she was concentrating on nail-painting or worrying about the situation with Vince remained to be seen. Lizzie, who had all but demanded never to be called by her full name of Elizabeth, had been one of Stephanie's main confidantes upon her arrival in the Hartford neighborhood three years earlier. Only five years Stephanie's senior, Lizzie had been the first neighbor to greet her when the moving trucks rolled in, and she brought — along with her natural abundance of charm — a golden-baked casserole, as a gesture of welcoming. A few days after Stephanie's move-in, she had a second encounter with Lizzie during the transfer of groceries from her car to the house and, ever since then, they had been the best of friends.

"How so?" Lizzie moved onto the next nail and stole a glance at Stephanie, who raised her head from her pillow to take a sip from her glass before plopping back down.

"I tried to call Shane earlier and he didn't answer, which I'm sure is because he was at work. Anyways, I want to see if he can get us ahead on some bills and help me get back into school so I can finish my degree. If he can't, I'm pretty much gonna be stuck in the same spot I've been for the past few years, and I don't know how much more of this I can take."

"Does he know you ditched work today?"

"No, and I probably won't tell him," Stephanie admitted, closing her eyes and basking in the pampering. Lizzie was one of her most loyal backers and had kept her sane on multiple occasions when she felt herself spiraling off the deep end so, if nothing else, Stephanie expected she would have some advice. "I don't think he'd give me a hard time about it, but I don't want him to think I'm slacking. You know how sometimes you can't motivate yourself enough mentally to be able to do something?"

"Yeah."

"That's how it was for me today. It's like, my head just wasn't in it, and I knew I wouldn't be able to find it in me to make nice with the customers. I'm way too stressed out."

"I'm really sorry, Steph. This has to be the hardest time of your life, but you're doing a good job. I know Vince is proud of you, and he should be."

"I wish I could believe that but, honestly, I don't even think he knows where _he_ is half the time, let alone how hard I'm working for both of us. I'm really overwhelmed, and a part of me thinks maybe I need to throw in the towel and fly us to California so we can live with Shane and Marissa. They're doing well for themselves in Burbank, and it would be a fresh start for everyone. I can live with Shane while I work and try to get back on my feet and then I can get my own place and go back to school there."

"Oh, I'd miss you_ so_ much, though," Lizzie pouted as she flipped her blond hair over her shoulder, where it rested in waves against her back. "I want you to do what you think is best for yourself, but don't be surprised when I fall apart if you end up leaving."

"We'd always keep in touch, I promise. I'd never leave and just forget about you. You're my best friend," Stephanie studied Lizzie's expression, which could only be described as glum. A move to California wasn't yet set in stone, but it was looking as if that would be best for both Stephanie _and_ Vince in the long run.

"Other hand, chica," Lizzie reached for her right hand, and Stephanie placed her glass down on her bedside table before handing it to Lizzie so she could paint her other fingernails. Stephanie raised her freshly completed hand and began blowing at it, checking the clock on her dresser just in time to find she only had another ten minutes until WCW Nitro would begin. It wasn't often she made it a point to watch, but after her encounter the week before, she had a new reason to tune in.

"Hey, you know Chris Jericho?"

"Who?"

"Chris Jericho, you know, from WCW," Stephanie added to jog her memory. Lizzie hadn't ever been a major wrestling fan, but she knew who the main players were and also grasped a solid understanding of the legacy of the WWF, since Stephanie made certain to issue a full rundown of details. It still stung, and probably always would, for Stephanie to watch WCW prosper and receive the benefits her family could, and _would,_ have had, if only life hadn't dealt such a tragic hand.

"That blond hunk?"

"Yep, that's him," Stephanie laughed as she stared at the ceiling and thought back to their conversation. Her chance encounter with Chris, up until that point, had been something she kept to herself, not for any reason other than she hadn't found a reason to speak of it. With Lizzie in the room, it seemed like the right time to finally hash it out. "I met him last week. I almost didn't recognize him at first because I don't watch WCW very often, but I've seen him a few times before."

"What?" Lizzie's shocked blue eyes widened like saucers as she put off her task as manicurist. "How could you meet him and not tell me?"

"I would have told you, but I didn't know if you would care that much. You're not exactly the biggest wrestling fan in the world," Stephanie pointed out, and Lizzie couldn't help but nod in agreement. On most occasions, Lizzie tuned wrestling discussions out, only paying attention to the guys who provided a sense of eye candy to her, which Chris definitely did. "Anyways, he came into the hotel bar when I was working and got a beer. He was really friendly and laid back, just a pretty easy guy to talk to. I was having an off night and acted like a complete nerd, but he didn't seem to notice or mind."

"What did you do?"

"I was just stumbling over my words and stuff, but he was great — even asked for my number."

"He _what_?" Lizzie gasped, neglecting Stephanie's nails altogether in favor of getting the scoop. "Are you guys going out?"

"Well..."

"Oh my God, you are!" she squealed.

"Shh, you'll wake my dad up," Stephanie reminded her, though Vince's hibernation was one he likely wouldn't come out of so easily. She sat up on the bed and drew her knees to her chin as she absently watched the cereal commercial playing on the screen and hummed along with the ad's jingle.

"Oh no, no, _no_, you can't just leave me hanging, missy!" Lizzie pinched her exposed thigh and Stephanie jumped, a scowl washing over her face as she rubbed the tender spot.

"Hey!" she snapped before matching Lizzie's gesture with a playful tap against her leg. "The answer to your question is no, we're not going out."

"Well why not?"

Stephanie sighed, "The thing is...I kinda didn't give him my number."

"What do you mean you didn't give it to him? You didn't have time because you had to help other customers?"

"No, I mean I turned him down, but not in a bad way. All I said was I'm not interested in dating right this second and that he should set his sights elsewhere."

"Stephanie!" Lizzie scolded as she crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes.

"What?" she replied guiltily. "I told him it was me and not him."

"Do you really think that matters? Guys minds operate really one-dimensionally, and I would bet my last dime he didn't hear a word you said after you turned him down. All he thought was you didn't like him and, well..._do_ you like him?" Lizzie inquired.

Stephanie reflected back on that night, exactly one week ago, and repeated Lizzie's question in her mind. Chris had been charming beyond words, a real ladies' man, and took an interest in her more than anyone else besides Lizzie ever did. It didn't seem he was scamming on her, and Chris came off as if he truly wanted to get to know who she was inside. There had been plenty of females in the bar that night, and if he wanted them, he could have easily grabbed one and taken them up to his hotel room, but she won all his attention.

It was the first time Stephanie pieced it together in her mind from that perspective, and now that she had, it made her wish she could travel back in time just to give Chris her number. She tended to sell herself short in life, and it was a struggle she worked to conquer every day. Recognizing the value in herself was no easy feat, and if only Stephanie had paused long enough to think about it, she would have realized she _was _good enough for Chris. He hadn't looked down on her or doubted her that evening, rather, she had been the one to do that to herself.

Though she couldn't change what occurred in the past, Stephanie held the upper hand in knowing where he worked and could use that information as a potential starting point to get back in touch with Chris. He knew where she worked as well, but with the growing number of females he probably crossed each day, it was a reach to expect him to remember her. Stephanie had been a random woman in a bar and, even in the short week that passed, it was quite possible Chris had forgotten their exchange and moved forward. Growing up in the business, Stephanie witnessed the way wrestlers carried themselves when they were on the road and free of their female companions, and chances were in Chris's favor he was having no problem pulling women.

"I think so, Lizzie, I really do," Stephanie responded after giving herself time to mull it over. "He was sweet and didn't make me feel like a loser, even though I'm pretty sure I was acting like one."

"Apparently not, if he liked you enough to try to get your digits. I think you were crazy to turn him down, you would look totally cute with him. He could have been the change you're looking for in life, plus," Lizzie's eyes lit up, "it has to be fate, because what are the odds that he would happen to order a drink in the exact hotel bar you work at?"

"I feel bad now, and I wish I could change it, but it would be so awkward to call his job and ask to talk to him. They would probably just think I was a stalker fan or something," she guessed before her mind drifted back to that night at the bar and the piercing look in his eyes as he watched her while downing his beer. "It would be nice to find someone I could be happy with, though. I haven't really had a boyfriend in so long, and I'm not saying for sure this was headed that way, but maybe I would have really liked him."

"I say we call the WCW corporate offices and try to find out his contact information."

"No way," Stephanie shook her head adamantly and held her unfinished hand out to indicate to Lizzie that she wanted her to finish polishing her nails. Taking the hint, she started again while Stephanie used the other hand to turn to the channel Nitro would be showing on in a few minutes time. "I don't want to come off as a weirdo. I had my chance and I blew it."

"I don't think you should be throwing in the towel so easily."

"It's over, Liz, all right?"

"All right, fine," she agreed easily...almost a little _too_ easily for her.

"You're planning something," Stephanie sighed, already dreading the lengths Lizzie might go to set up a date. If she had predicted Lizzie would take it that far, she never would have let her in on such a secret in the first place. The point in bringing it up had been to get it out of her system, not so that Lizzie could run behind her back and try to make a love connection where there wasn't one. "I don't want you calling WCW. Their corporate line is for work, not to be used as a dating service."

"I know," Lizzie shrugged, smirking when she thought Stephanie wasn't watching, but she was mistaken. Stephanie was perhaps one of the most intuitive people on the planet and was always watching to make sure everyone stayed in check. That was one of the major qualities that made her so good at caring for her ailing father.

"Why are you smiling like that then?"

"I'm just thinking about how cute you would have been with Chris, that's all. I can't believe you turned down _Jericho_, you crazy chick."

"I shouldn't have. I did, but I shouldn't have," Stephanie whispered before resigning herself to watching television and reminiscing on lost chances.

Loss persisted as the only constant in her life.


	3. What's Meant to Be Will Find a Way

Two rectangles of paper lay across from her.

Stephanie's mouth fell agape and remained that way as her gaze shifted from Lizzie, to the tickets, and back again. Proud of herself for rendering Stephanie speechless, a nearly impossible feat, Lizzie tucked her hands behind her head and sank into the chair in the living room of Stephanie's house. More than a week had passed since their conversation about Chris, and Stephanie may have thought it was over for good, but Lizzie was rarely one to let things go. Each year, she watched Stephanie whither away a little more, and that was the major driving force in obtaining the present she ambushed her with.

The task included a bit of digging, but after calling around for information, Lizzie found out a taping for WCW Nitro was set to be held in Raleigh, North Carolina, and it was a show she couldn't allow Stephanie to miss. Not only would it be an outing she was in desperate need of, but it would give her the opportunity to mend broken bridges. Finding out about Stephanie's missed chance with Chris caused Lizzie's cupid-playing meter to sound, so she intervened, because it was the right thing to do for a friend. Neither of them had a steady romantic relationship going, but Lizzie wanted Stephanie to have that, because she deserved to find true happiness in the wake of such tragedy.

"So what do you think?" Lizzie carelessly kicked one leg over the arm of the chair and flashed a bright smile. The ends of her bangs brushed against her eyelashes, and she chased them away with a flick of her head as she regarded Stephanie, who was still in shock. "Come on, tell me how much you love me for this."

Stephanie leaned forward on the couch, both hands resting on her knees, before extending one of them to grab the pair of tickets from the table and read the details typed onto them. "Wow, the show is in North Carolina, too! That's where my dad is from, both of my parents were, and I bet he would love to visit his old stomping grounds," she said, with a joyful head shake, while smiling down at the tickets before an idea came to life in her mind. "You know something, Lizzie? We should get a third ticket and bring my dad."

"I'm sorry, but I don't think that's such a good idea," Lizzie argued. There was a way to voice her opinion gently, and she was going to attempt that feat, so as not to upset Stephanie. "Nothing against your dad, but I did this so we would be able to get away, but especially _you_. You take care of your dad all day, every day, and this is supposed to be your chance to have a break from life and relax. You'll be off from work, and if you take the entire week off, we won't have to rush back here."

"Oh no, I forgot about work," Stephanie's face fell as she tossed the tickets back onto the table in defeat and leaned back, concealing her face with both hands. Lizzie sighed and crossed the room, plopping down next to her and placing a calming hand on her shoulder.

"We can figure out a way for you to get off work. Don't you at least have a little vacation time?"

"I think so. I mean, I haven't used any of it, so it should be there," she mumbled, thought it was stifled, since she spoke through her hands.

"Well then, we'll figure something out with that, but don't get stressed, because that defeats the entire purpose of why I wanted us to go. We deserve a break, both of us do, and this is our chance. Plus, Chris Jericho is scheduled to be there, I already checked."

"Really?" Stephanie instantly lit up like a firecracker. In that split second of time, her hands left her face and hope shined radiantly in her eyes.

"Really," Lizzie laughed. "Maybe we'll run into him before or after the show, you never know. He's gotta leave the building sometime, and when he does, we'll catch him."

"He won't remember me, I don't think. He barely even saw what I looked like, because the bar is so dark."

"We'll just have to remind him then, won't we?" Lizzie pursed her lips and tipped her head to the side, and Stephanie nodded in agreement, because her friend could be mighty convincing when she wanted to. It wasn't always easy getting Stephanie to break free from her shell, but the extra prodding had done its job. The trip to North Carolina was a vacation Lizzie wasn't willing to allow Stephanie to miss — not even if she had to drag her out of her house by the hair.

"I guess so, but I don't have much of anything to wear, and then I don't know who would take care of my dad while I'm gone."

"He's an adult, he can take care of himself," Lizzie pointed out. "Just don't leave him any alcohol and he'll be forced to stay sober while you're gone."

"He gets super mad at me when I won't buy him drinks though, so I really don't like to do that. I just hate the confrontation," Stephanie admitted. She avoided conflict by nature, which wasn't always easy to do when living with an alcoholic. Vince's health hadn't elevated at all in the past four years, but that was only because he didn't want help. He had no desire to stop what he was doing, not even when Stephanie told him how much his actions hurt her and, at some point, she had to stop worrying about him and start making herself happy. "I _have_ to go to this show no matter what, so I guess I'll call Shane and see what he thinks about leaving my dad alone. Maybe we can get someone to come check on him throughout the day or..." Stephanie trailed off, holding her chin between her thumb and index finger.

"Stop worrying, would you? Seriously, stop it right now. It's time to focus on yourself, and we'll see if one of the neighbors are willing to check on him while we're gone, but you can't miss this show," Lizzie replied. The longer their conversation grew, the more Stephanie believed Lizzie was absolutely right. It had been quite some time since she had done anything that brought her true joy, and it wasn't a crime to occasionally put herself first.

"You're right," she nodded. "I have to go."

When the big day arrived, Stephanie slid her fingers through her hair and bit her bottom lip with bundled anticipation, as a camera dangled from her opposite wrist. Lizzie brought a camera of her own and stepped in stride with Stephanie, inspecting the busy parking lot at the same time. It was early enough in the afternoon that most of the wrestlers hadn't yet arrived, but if they happened to be anywhere near, she wanted to catch them, especially if said wrestler was someone named Chris Jericho. The lot was abuzz with manic conversation and car doors being opened and shut as everyone began to line up outside the arena.

Lizzie's search was comic relief for Stephanie, since she knew exactly who Lizzie was looking for, but she soon found herself distracted by the rush of excitement. Never in her wildest dreams would she have expected to be attending a WCW show at any point in life. If someone had come to her only five years prior and confessed her mother would be gone, her father would be an alcoholic, the family business would be extinct, and she would be attending a WCW show, Stephanie would have hunched over laughing. It served as a staunch reminder that no one could ever be too sure about life, not even if everything seemed secured.

Her main motivation to attend that evening's show, aside from not wanting to disappoint Lizzie, was to get out of the house for a while and have a break for herself. When speaking with Shane, shortly after receiving the tickets from Lizzie, he told Stephanie he would be angry if she didn't go because, even in light of the distance that separated them, he knew when his little sister needed a break. Her frayed nerves resurfaced each time she thought back to her dad at home and wondered if he was okay, but Stephanie had taken Lizzie's advice and not left him a single drop of alcohol. Though she expected a ton of backlash upon her return, she poured out all the alcohol she found in the kitchen cabinets before leaving.

The day before her departure, Stephanie cooked several different meals and left them in sealed containers in the refrigerator so Vince could eat them at his convenience. Leaving him money would have backfired since, instead of spending it on food or healthy drinks, he would have gone to the liquor store, so she stocked the refrigerator with a bevy of water and natural fruit juices, in addition to the meals. They were actions of love, _tough_ love, and even though he might not see it right away, Stephanie was hopeful he would appreciate her approach later on. Everything she did was for the good of her family.

"I'm so excited!" Lizzie rocked on her heels when they reached the back of the expansive line of people. Stephanie raised an eyebrow and tipped her head.

"You don't even like wrestling that much, you told me so."

"Maybe I do now, okay? People change," she shrugged, just as a smile peeked out of her scowl. As she turned towards the parking lot once more and watched over it like a lifeguard eyeballing children at the swimming pool during summer, she confirmed Stephanie's growing suspicions.

"You only wanted to come here because of Chris. I bet if I hadn't told you about meeting him at work, we wouldn't be here right now."

"So I think a cute guy who's actually going places would be good for you, sue me," she responded.

"I'm glad you think so, but I just want to watch the show and go home. If we happen to see Chris then cool, but if not, I don't have a whole lot of time to hang around. I have to get back to my dad, because it's probably only a matter of time before he does something stupid to try and score some alcohol. I fully expect to see him on the news for breaking into a liquor store when we get back."

"Stop thinking so negatively. He'll be fine."

"I hope so," Stephanie faced forward, delighted to find the doors had apparently been opened since she last checked, and the line was starting to crawl forward. She wasn't against a developing friendship with Chris, but Stephanie had her doubts the chance still lingered. Chris would most likely not have any recollection of her and probably couldn't pick her out of a line-up if asked who his bartender in Hartford had been. Lizzie was doing the best she could, and while it was a nice gesture and much appreciated by Stephanie, it was somewhat unrealistic to think anything would ever come of seeking Chris out.

Yet, Stephanie still prayed they ran into him before the night's end.

Juventud Guerrera's curly mop of a mane was tucked behind a bright orange bandana, which he dismissively stripped himself of and chucked into the crowd, as he traveled down the long ramp and hopped into the ring. Stephanie's stomach was in knots, because the program they received upon entering the building had already named Chris Jericho as his opponent — a fact she probably would have known ahead of time, had she been following the show as closely as she should have. The nearest television camera made a wide sweep and panned along their section of seats, the surrounding crowd erupting in cheers, as Juventud's music began to fade out and the rugged jam that accompanied Chris Jericho to the ring each week began to pound through the speakers. He was billed by the annoucer as the Lionheart, hailing from Calgary, Alberta, and Stephanie's breath caught in her throat when she caught sight of his signature blond hair at the top of the ramp.

Chris was every bit as fit and muscular as she remembered, and the closer he got, the more details about the conversation they shared surfaced in her mind. Their meeting had been brief, but there was a certain familiarity she felt, simply by being close to Chris, and her senses kicked into overdrive when Lizzie began calling out to him from behind the metal barricade. Stephanie nearly sank to the ground in horror as Lizzie cupped her mouth and screamed for Chris at the top of her lungs, finally succeeding in catching his attention. His head snapped towards them, and Stephanie made out a clear shift in his attention when his gaze jumped from Lizzie to her.

Stephanie froze like a snowman, wanting to wave, smile, or do anything that would prevent her from coming off as a total dunce, but a split second later, he was continuing down the ramp and the chance was lost. Lizzie grabbed her by the arm and began shaking her excitedly, "Did you see that? He totally noticed you!"

"Yeah, but he probably thought you were insane for yelling like that!" Stephanie shouted over the echoing noise. When Chris entered the ring, he grabbed a microphone from an official at ringside and took a seat on the top rope as he scanned the crowd with his eyes, making it a point to look directly in Lizzie and Stephanie's direction. "Oh my God, he's so gorgeous," she plopped her forehead down on Lizzie's shoulder after he turned away.

"See? He did it again! He recognizes you."

"Let's hope not. I have a feeling I'm making a complete fool out of myself by being here tonight."

"No, you're not. I bet this time he's not gonna let you slip away so easily," Lizzie estimated, just as Chris was bringing the microphone up to his lips to address Juventud and the crowd in attendance. Stars danced in Stephanie's eyes as she took in his breathtaking performance and experienced, firsthand, what a natural he was in front of an audience. She made a mental note to tell him that if she was ever fortunate enough to hold another conversation with him in the future.

"That was amazing! Thanks for buying the tickets, Liz. This was such a good break, and it was so good to get out of the house for once," Stephanie hugged her around the shoulders minutes after the show concluded and they were waiting for the people in front of them to squeeze out the doors. "We have to do this again sometime."

"Well, you're welcome, and we _will_ do it another time. I'll wait until they're having a show somewhere close by and then we'll get some more tickets."

"Cool."

About 10 minutes, and plenty of Chris-gushing later, Lizzie and Stephanie exited the arena and stepped into the brisk night air. Stephanie pulled her sweater more snugly around her body and rubbed her hands together in an attempt to warm up but was thrown off balance when Lizzie grabbed her arm and dragged her away from the line of people making the trek to their vehicles. There was a cacophony of door-shutting and horn-honking, as the parking lot came to life with people trying to get home after a long show. Without even having to ask, Stephanie knew what Lizzie was up to, and she wasn't planning on putting up too much of a fight, because the truth was, she wanted to see Chris.

"You realize it could be an hour or two before he even comes out here, right?" Stephanie asked. Lizzie continued pulling her along, turning back only briefly to shake her head.

"It won't take him _that_ long. All he's gotta do is shower and get to his car, and we're going to be waiting for him when he comes. Most of the wrestlers were parking over there from what I saw earlier," she pointed to a sectioned off area of the lot, and they stopped to marvel at it. There was no sign of any of the wrestlers yet, but the night was still young.

"It's a little chilly, so I think I'll go wait in the car. Can I have the keys?"

"Fine, suit yourself, but you better not leave me behind, chick," Lizzie teased, sticking her tongue out.

"I would _never_," Stephanie gasped, pretending to be alarmed, before stepping into the rapidly emptying parking lot and scanning the area for Lizzie's car.

It didn't take as long to find it as she initially expected, but that was mostly because the other vehicles were trickling out, so she unlocked the door and opted to stretch out in the backseat. Leaving the door open to allow a soft breeze inside, she turned the overhead light on to search for her notebook. It was a regular notepad she used to write all her jumbled thoughts in and was basically a journal. Stephanie brought it along mainly because she expected the car ride to be boring, which it was, and she managed to complete about ten pages since they left her house. She could only watch passing scenery out the window for so long during their travels before she needed to occupy herself with something else, so her notebook offered the perfect distraction. Luckily, she didn't suffer from motion sickness.

She smiled down at her pen, the type you could buy in novelty stores and that had pre-written names on them, and her eyes trailed down the decorative scrawl that spelled out her moniker. She tapped the tip against her chin for a minute or two while gathering her thoughts and then launched into a descriptive passage of everything she experienced at the show that evening: sounds, sights, smells and all. Everything that came to mind ended up on the page, and she smiled to herself at the thought of how much fun it had been to watch Chris in action. Meeting him in a bar had been great enough, but she was privileged to have received the chance to witness him in his element.

What began as a basic account of her trip turned into a glowing essay on Chris Jericho as a performer. She scribbled furiously, not relenting for a second, until a yell sounded across the parking lot. Stephanie initially explained it away as simple background noise, but before she had the chance to put pen back to paper, she heard the voice call out again and recognized her name being called. When she looked up, Lizzie was standing in the same spot where she left her, only this time, she had company. It was a split second more before Stephanie made the connection as to whose silhouette she was viewing next to Lizzie's.

It appeared the pair had grown restless waiting on her, because they started across the parking lot, and Stephanie entered panic mode as she attempted to fix her hair using only the help of the rearview mirror. She assumed Lizzie would fail at convincing Chris to stop and talk to her, but, had she believed there was any real possibility their paths would meet again, she would have tossed her notebook away long ago and spent the extra time primping. She peeked sideways, amidst her hair-styling haste, to find them only a matter of yards away. By the time she successfully smoothed her messy tresses down and mentally prepped herself for how to behave, Lizzie was at her door, with Chris standing just off to the side.

"Look who _I_ found," Lizzie spoke in an airy, slightly taunting, albeit playful, tone of voice.

"So we meet again," Chris added before leaning down and showing his striking features. "I remember you!" he said comically, while pointing his index finger at her.

"Hi," Stephanie waved and reached out to shake his hand.

"Nah, too formal," he waved her gesture off. "Get out and give me a hug instead."

"Okay," she released a pent-up, nervous giggle and scooted out of her seat, hugging him briefly. When they pulled away, he was smiling brightly at her, his face partially illuminated by the moonlight, and Stephanie bit her bottom lip and rocked on her heels with anxiety. "You were really great out there tonight. I just thought you should know."

"Thanks a lot. I felt good out there, and even better when I heard your friend screaming for me," Chris quipped, as they both laughed at the memory.

"Yeah, I told her to pipe down, but she's a hard one to contain," Stephanie replied. Lizzie cleared her throat loudly to gain their attention, which she did quite effectively, and smirked.

"The concession stand is still open, so I'm going to grab some nachos. You two have fun," she said, leaning in to gingerly kiss Stephanie's cheek. She waved at Chris before walking back through the parking lot towards the doors, and Stephanie laughed as she watched her go. It was just like Lizzie to play matchmaker, but she couldn't deny it felt good to be given a second chance with Chris. This time, there was no way she was walking away from him without sharing her phone number.

"She's funny," he chuckled.

"Yep, she is," Stephanie turned back to face him. "She might seem a little out there at first, but once you get to know her, she's one of the funniest people you'll ever meet."

"I'll bet," he responded before adjusting the shoulder strap of his bag. "I guess she wanted to give us the chance to hang out."

"Can I be honest with you without coming off like a total loser?"

"You're too cute to ever be described as a loser."

"Thanks," Stephanie felt her cheeks flush and was glad the night sky prevented Chris from seeing it. "We drove to this show because Lizzie got me the tickets, but the reason she bought them was because I told her about when we met at my job. I felt like an idiot for not giving you my number. I wanted to, but I get shy sometimes and it makes me do stupid things. I guess I'm fairly clueless when it comes to guys, but I was hoping you wouldn't think I didn't give it to you just because I didn't want to. It wasn't like that at all and...and now I'm rambling," she paused, tucking some hair behind her ear.

"It's okay, I understand."

"Here, let me get my number for you," Stephanie offered. She leaned into the car and reached for her notebook and pen before scribbling her home number down and ripping off the small corner of the page where she had written it.

"Thanks, I'll be sure to put this to good use," he grinned before holding his hand out. "Can I see your notebook for a minute?"

"Oh...well, my personal writing is in it and stuff, since it's my journal," she hesitated, blushing once more under his scrutiny. "Can I just rip a blank page out for you?"

"That's fine. I just want to give you my number too, in case I'm stupid enough to misplace yours."

Stephanie ripped a sheet out and handed it over, along with her pen, "Here you go."

"Thanks," he smiled and scrawled his number out before handing it back to her, where she tucked it away neatly inside her notebook. "What are you and your friend doing tonight?"

"We were gonna grab something to eat before we get back on the road, but apparently she's started dinner without me," Stephanie signaled behind Chris, where Lizzie was exiting the doors with a boxed portion of nachos she appeared to be eating from. Chris laughed and turned back to Stephanie, squinting into the darkness to get a better look at her than he had the last time they met. "I think we'll get some fast food and then head home. Lizzie wants to spend the night, but I'm a little anxious to be back home."

"That's too bad, I was hoping you guys would stick around tonight."

"I would love to, but my dad is sick and I take care of him, so it's probably best that I get back as soon as possible."

"So are you a bigger wrestling fan after tonight?" Chris inquired as he shoved his hands inside his pockets. "I'd like to think my match helped make you more open to the world of professional wrestling."

"Well, I'm about as open to it as you can get, considering the family I come from."

"Family?" Chris asked, and it wasn't until he questioned it that Stephanie remembered he had no clue who she was, other than just another face in the crowd. He hadn't the slightest idea what an excellent promoter her grandfather had been or that he helped his son — her father — build what had become one of the most successful wrestling corporations around, before its unfortunate and untimely demise. "Who's your family?"

"I probably should have told you this sooner, but I'm a McMahon. I'm Vince's daughter."

"_You're_ Stephanie McMahon?"

"Guilty," she answered with a timid nod while Chris stood flabbergasted. "I know I should have told you sooner, but I felt like it would have killed the mood at the bar. I didn't want you to come to any conclusions about me based on what's been in the news about my family. My dad is really sick and can't seem to stop with the alcohol, and I lost my mom, so I'm just trying to do my best to make it."

"Damn, you must have a really heavy load on your back. Hey, why don't I take you inside so you can talk to Bischoff? He probably has a great-paying office job with benefits you could do."

"No, no, I can't work for the enemy," she cringed as soon as the words left her mouth and revised. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that against you. It's just that I would feel like I was betraying my family if I came to work for the company who put us out of business. I'm doing fine as a bartender, and I'm actually checking into moving to California with my dad so we can be closer to Shane and have more help."

His voice filled with concern and veered away from the mood of the mellow banter they exchanged beforehand, "Are you okay? Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Just call me. I'd really like to hear from you."

"I will, I promise. Can I ask you something, just for my own curiosity's sake?"

"Sure, what is it?" Stephanie quizzed.

"Did your friend really bring you here just to track me down?" Chris wondered, a hopeful gleam in his eye.

"Honestly..." she hesitated.

"Yeah, honestly," he urged.

"Yes, it was to see you," Stephanie came clean. "I had this gut feeling I should have given you my number, and I knew I couldn't rest until I saw you again."

"Thank goodness for gut feelings then."

"Yeah, thank goodness."


	4. My Burden Is My Purpose

Stephanie's face scrunched in a show of determination as she attempted to open the front door of her house without making a single sound. Blackness blanketed the yard, as the first signs of the rising sun making its appearance came in the form of a few light streaks of blue across the distant sky. She and Lizzie had switched off every couple hours with the driving until they reached their neighborhood, and Stephanie planned to sleep the day away to catch up on all the rest she missed while traveling from the show. The door creaked as she pushed it open, and her eyes darted around in the dark, checking for any signs of life.

Vince clearly hadn't made the effort to turn any lights on when night fell, so she reached for the lamp near the door and switched on the dial, bathing the room in an intense rush of life. After shutting and locking the front door behind her, Stephanie removed her jacket and tossed it on the recliner chair in the living room, cutting across the room to get to Vince's. She breathed a sigh of relief when she leaned in the doorway and heard the calm drone of his low exhales. The rhythm of his breaths made it clear he was asleep, so she didn't bother turning his light on, since it would only wake him up and make him cranky.

As much as her tired muscles ached to be lowered into a hot, steaming bath, Stephanie's heavy eyelids were indicative of the sleep her body craved, so she settled for brushing her teeth and changing into a pair of pajamas before dropping into bed. She rested on her back with the covers pulled up to her chin, and a faint smile formed on her face when she thought back to her interactions with Chris. He was sweet, handsome, and had taken a keen interest in her, which was something Stephanie didn't come across with guys every day. After making a mental note to call him later in the day if she hadn't heard from him first, she gave into impending sleep and drifted away.

It was about five hours later, a little after noon, when Stephanie was unceremoniously awoken by the ends of her blanket being gripped and swept forcefully off of her body. She moaned in frustration and tried to open her eyes but ended up doing a half-squint because of the piercing sunlight trickling into her bedroom through the window. She turned her head to see where her covers had gone and found Vince looming overhead, glowering at her from above, "Where in the hell have you been?"

"Dad, I told you," she mumbled, while rubbing the sleep from her eyes, "I went to a show with Lizzie."

"You took my drinks."

"I left you lots of stuff to drink in the refrigerator, and I left you food too."

"What did you do with my drinks?" he repeated.

"The alcohol? I got rid of it."

"Get out of bed, and go get some more! You had no right to throw my things out."

"But, Dad, I paid for it with my money. I don't have to bring alcohol here for you if I don't want to anymore. Maybe I'm getting a little sick and tired of funding your habit while we struggle just to keep a roof over our heads."

"I won't have this...this...disrespect!" Vince slammed his fist into the wall, and it caved in the slightest bit as he began grabbing various trinkets from the top of her dresser and tossing them around the room.

"Stop it, Dad!" Stephanie screamed. She rushed out of bed and grabbed onto him, pulling her jewelry box from his left hand while she removed a plaque she had won in high school from his other one. What little jewelry she owned had scattered and was left splayed out on the floor. Not wanting the fight to carry on any longer, she resigned herself to obeying his demands. "Stop throwing my stuff all over the place, this is crazy. Give me time to shower and I'll get what you need."

"Make it fast, and you'd better think twice before getting rid of my stuff ever again without telling me," Vince growled.

He turned on his heel and shuffled out of the room, leaving a flabbergasted daughter behind in his wake. Stephanie's eyes widened when she remembered the prized pearl earrings her mother had given her, and she crouched to the floor and swept her hands over the carpet in search of them. She couldn't afford to lose anything Linda had gifted to her, and it was quite possibly the first thing her father had done since developing his alcohol problem that she wouldn't easily forgive him for. If he was truly responsible for the loss of something that precious to her, there would be no way to make it up.

Her heart swelled with joy when she located the first pearl earring near the wastebasket pushed up against the wall, and Stephanie snatched it and inspected the rest of the carpet for the matching one but couldn't seem to locate it. She gulped audibly and dropped to her knees, tears forming in her eyes. Out of everything Vince could have chosen to throw around her room, her jewelry box was the worst choice, and she began berating herself for not putting it in a safer place. She knew how destructive Vince's behavior could be when he was either drunk or waiting for that next bit of alcohol, so she should have taken more care.

The good news was that even though the whereabouts of her second pearl earring remained unknown, it had to be _somewhere_ in her room, so it would be impossible not to find it at some point. She gathered her wits and rose to her feet so she could compile some clean clothes and take a shower. After a quick store run to buy some drinks for Vince, she could return home and call Lizzie to have her come over and help look for the earring. There was no way they wouldn't be able to find it as long as they put in a team effort, and that thought raised her spirits just enough to bring a hint of a smile to her face. Stephanie grabbed fresh clothing and her robe, and disappeared into the bathroom.

When she stepped outdoors, almost 30 minutes later, and was met with a blast of cool air, Stephanie scrunched her nose and sighed. She was in the mood to walk, since it would give her a chance to clear her head and enjoy the fresh air, but it wasn't going to be a very pleasant stroll if she went in the middle of such a bitingly cold day, so she made the decision to take her car. Stephanie shielded her eyes from the overbearing sunlight and glanced at Lizzie's house, but not a peep was to be heard from her friend, who was probably still asleep, the same way Stephanie would have been if her father hadn't interrupted her serene doze. She slipped into her car and cranked the heater up before backing out of the driveway.

In the silence of morning, save for the light drone of her vehicle's engine, Stephanie thought of Chris and decided on leaving him a message. She didn't want to wake him up if he happened to be sleeping but wanted him to know she was serious about them building a friendship, so she wasted no time. Grabbing her purse and placing it on her lap, she kept both eyes trained on the road ahead and fished around for her cell phone, retrieving it a short time later. When she was stopped at the next traffic light, Stephanie scrolled through her contacts list, since she added Chris's name and number the night before.

Her eyes lit up when she located his name, and she selected it. Stephanie was in the process of planning out the message she would leave when his voicemail system kicked in, but, instead, she heard a sharp click on the line before being met with his alert voice, "Hello?"

"Oh...you're...oh, hi," Stephanie stammered, cringing at her awkward nature that seemed to be ingrained in her whenever she spoke to Chris. It would be a miracle if he didn't leave their phone conversation thinking she was a flustered dope, but Chris seemed too nice to ever entertain any bad thoughts about her.

"Is this Stephanie?" Chris quizzed, and she could almost hear the smirk in his voice.

"Yep, it's me."

"Don't sound so shy. Why are you being all quiet?"

"Oh, am I?" she laughed before adding, "I hadn't noticed, but I think it's just because I'm caught off-guard that you actually answered. I thought you might still be asleep, so I was planning on leaving you a message instead."

"I was asleep about an hour ago, but for some reason I woke up early this morning. I don't normally do that, but I was restless. It's probably because I'm still worked up from last night. I'm assuming you and your friend made it home safely, so I'm glad for that."

"Yep, we got back super early this morning," Stephanie said, expertly navigating the streets with her left hand on the wheel as she held her phone up with her right one. She was amazed at the ease with which she was able to speak to Chris once their conversation got underway. All the nerves that rattled her before seemed to evaporate the longer they spoke. Rather than feeling like someone she had just met, talking to Chris felt like being with an old friend she had known all along. "It was still dark outside when I went into my house."

"What are _you_ doing up so early then?"

Stephanie paused and considered the truthful answer, but she was just getting to know Chris, and he wasn't going to enjoy talking to her if she complained about her father's outlandish behavior each time they spoke. He wanted to get to know her, but she couldn't pile all her problems onto him right away and expect him to stick around, so she opted for a simplified answer instead, "Oh, the same as you. I couldn't really sleep, so I'm making a store run right now."

"Is the weather there nice?"

"A little cold, but it's okay. I actually really wanted to walk to the store, but it was too nippy out, so I took my car."

"Well, hurry back home so you can get under the covers and read a good book or watch a movie. Do you have a fireplace?" Chris inquired.

"We do, yep. It's nice and toasty at home, and I'm still on my paid vacation days with my job, so there's nowhere I _have_ to be. If I decide to curl up on the couch all day and not move, I can do that. It should be a nice, quiet day, if things will go my way," Stephanie said.

"I'm sending good vibes your way then."

"Thanks," she grinned.

"Don't mention it," Chris responded. Falling easily into the next subject, he said, "So, I feel like I haven't gotten a chance to ask you a lot about yourself. What do you like to do when you're not working? You must have some hobbies or things you enjoy."

"Well..." she paused in thought. The cold, hard truth was that the bulk of her time not spent at work went to caring for her dad, but, again, she didn't want to seem like a downer to Chris, so she did the only thing she could think to pull herself out of an uncomfortable question — falsifying her answer. "I love all kinds of stuff. I like hiking, gardening, and everyone always says this is an old lady habit, but I really like to knit."

"Do you?"

"Yep, I love it," she nodded, feeling a pang in her heart at deceiving Chris. She was too girly to ever consider hiking, it was usually too cold out to actively garden, and she hadn't a snowball's chance in hell of ever being able to demonstrate the most basic of sufficient skills when it came to knitting. She was a bold-faced liar, and it felt awful, but it was better than admitting to Chris that her life was in shambles and she didn't find much time to do anything enjoyable, nor would she have had plentiful enough funds to keep up with any hobby that required money.

"That's pretty awesome," he replied. "It's funny, 'cause I took you for this quiet girl when I first met you in the bar, and you are, but once you start getting to know someone, you open up pretty easily. When we were talking last night, it felt like we had known each other for a long time to me. I don't know, I just thought it was really cool you were so relaxed around me, and I hope you felt it too."

"I did, it was really fun," Stephanie said. She tapped her blinker on with her left hand and turned into the grocery store parking lot, letting out a groan when she saw how many parking spaces were occupied.

"What happened?" Chris asked, having heard the slight commotion.

"Nothing, I'm just being a baby," she laughed it off. "I'm at the store, and the parking lot is really crowded. I wish I could just have someone else do my shopping, to be honest. I find it so annoying trying to get around people in the aisles."

"Oh, well, I'll let you go so you can get your shopping done, but can I call you later?"

"I'd love to talk to you later."

"Is there a certain time that works best?"

"Not really, I'm pretty much up and about at all hours of the day, so just call whenever you feel inclined to and we'll talk some more."

"All right then, that's what I'll do. It was really great hearing from you, Stephanie. I'm so glad you called," Chris said, and she felt the bold honesty behind his words. Chris really seemed to have taken a liking to her, and she felt the same about him. She smiled while turning into a parking space, imagining how much their relationship might grow if they continued keeping in touch so regularly. The future felt promising as long as she had Chris close by.

"It was great hearing from you too. I'll talk to you soon," Stephanie replied.

"All right, bye, and good luck with your shopping trip."

"Thanks, bye," Stephanie laughed before hanging up the phone. She left the car running for a moment as she stared down at her phone and turned it over continuously in her hand. The odds seemed stacked against her that she would find such a sweet man who was interested in her, but she was glad luck had been on her side. It took almost another five minutes before Stephanie exited her car.

She had busied herself with daydreams of Chris.

An hour later, Stephanie pulled back into her driveway, thankful to be home. It wasn't entirely clear to her where such a mass of people had come from at the store, since it was the middle of the day during a weekday, but she was glad to be out of there. Since the alcohol was coming out of her hard-earned money, she had gotten Vince gin from the grocery store and chose a lesser brand name than what he was used to. If he was going to guilt her into buying him alcohol, then she wasn't going to purchase the expensive kind.

She stepped out of the car and opened the back door, bunching the plastic bag handles onto her arm before hauling the groceries to the front door. Vince was on the couch, awaiting her arrival, and she made a conscious effort not to roll her eyes at the way he was behaving. She needed someone strong to be there for her and set an example, yet her father was doing anything but, and it was growing beyond insufferable to live with. He reached his hands out right away, and Stephanie provided him the bag containing liquor before crossing into the kitchen to set everything else down.

She felt the urge to call Shane for some encouragement, but the other part of her longed to go next door and grab Lizzie for a talk. She felt bad about potentially waking her up, but if Stephanie didn't find someone to hold a conversation with besides her cloudy-minded father, she was going to explode. She passed Vince in the living room but didn't dare look at him, for fear of having to see him guzzling the alcohol and, in essence, drowning himself in an intense addiction he might not ever find the strength to come out of. After closing the front door behind herself, Stephanie trudged across the grass in her lawn and traversed into Lizzie's yard, where she went up to the door and rang the bell.

The first ring didn't seem to alert Lizzie, so she tried two more times, both to no avail. Stephanie considered trying again but remembered how frustrated she was to be woken up by her dad, and she didn't want to put her friend in the same situation. Instead, she pulled her phone from her pocket and sat on Lizzie front steps, dialing Shane's number and waiting while it rang. It was earlier in his time zone than hers, since he was on the West Coast, but she couldn't go back home without talking to someone who had their head on straight, and he was certain to be awake anyway, since he had to work.

"What?" an irritable-sounding Shane answered.

"Shane, hi, it's me. I'm really sorry to interrupt your morning, but I needed to talk," Stephanie explained.

His personality did a complete 180-degree turn when he realized it was his sister calling, and his voice softened immensely, "No, you're not interrupting, Steph. You know you can always call me no matter what. Is everything okay there?"

"It's fine, but is everything okay with you? You sounded a little mad or...more like a _lot_ mad," she corrected herself.

"No, it's fine, I've just got these deadlines with work and stuff, but none of that matters. What do you need? Is Dad being difficult?" he fired questions off at her left and right until he remembered what she had been doing the day before. "Before I forget, how did the WCW show go?"

"It was amazing. I met Chris Jericho...well, we met before, but I talked to him again. He was really sweet, just like the first time, so we exchanged numbers, and we already talked earlier this morning."

"Talked about what?"

"Nothing, just life and stuff. He was asking general questions about what I like to do and all that."

"Sounds like he wants to date you," Shane surmised, and she could practically imagine him standing at full-attention at the thought of any man trying to get at her. No matter how old she grew, Shane would always view her as a baby and not want anyone to come near her. That said, if Chris was as good a man as Stephanie said, he couldn't complain about her having someone solid in her life who could offer a support system, so he hoped the chance would come soon for him to meet the other man and possibly speak to him one-on-one.

"He tried to ask me out when he first came into the hotel bar, but I said I wasn't actively looking for anyone, so he backed off of it. I should have just let him ask me."

"No, no, you did the right thing."

"Shut up, Shane," Stephanie joked. "You're only saying that because you never think anyone is good enough to date me."

"That's right, and they're not. All guys need to keep their distance from my little sister if they don't want to be choked out," he teased.

"No, Chris is a good guy, and you'd really like him. He's super sweet."

"If you say so, but what did you really call me to talk about?"

Stephanie sighed and tucked some hair away from her face as the warm sun beamed down on her legs and remove some the chill coursing through her body. "Dad is getting out of control. I was sleeping this morning, and he came in and pulled the covers off my bed and woke me up. He was mad because I threw his alcohol out and didn't leave any here for him when I went on my trip to the show with Lizzie. I didn't want to leave him behind to get drunk, so I got rid of it all."

"Good for you, that was smart," Shane replied.

"I know, but then he got mad and was asking why I left him with nothing to drink. He threw a bunch of stuff around in my room until I agreed to go buy him some gin, so I went to the store and bought some, but I seriously can't take much more of this. He tossed my jewelry box too, and now I can't find one of the pearl earrings Mom gave me. I just feel so alone here, Shane."

"He can't be acting like that if he expects to live with you and, actually, at this point, it's probably best he doesn't live with either of us. He needs to be in rehab, with trained professionals who can help him. We don't know how to wean him off the alcohol, but they will," Shane pointed out. Stephanie had never been more relieved to hear him speak any other words as she was then. Someone was finally understanding the severity of the situation and was willing to help her get a handle on it. "Listen, do you think you can check around your area and find a rehab program to admit him to, where he can't leave unless he finishes?"

"I think you have to get a court order to be able to _make_ him go, but I can try to find out what's around here."

"Do that and let me know what the price is going to be and all that," Shane said. "Marissa and I will fly up there on the day he's set to go in, and we'll help you get him there so he can be admitted. I'm not going to sit by and watch him lose this battle."

"I don't want to either," Stephanie admitted.

"I know you don't, and that's why it's time for him to go to rehab."


	5. The Art of Persistence

Stephanie did an anxious sway in front of the glass windows as she glanced out at the planes, checking her watch every so often to see if it was time for Chris's plane to land. After engaging in regular phone and instant message chats for just under a month, the opportunity to actually see him in-person had rolled back around, and she couldn't have been any more thrilled than she already was. Fawning over his weekly matches on Nitro with Lizzie by her side hadn't been enough, so to spend the day with him would surely be a blessing. She had been fortunate enough to have co-workers willing to pick up a couple of her shifts, so she was free for the next two days to hang out with Chris as much as she wanted.

Due to the dramatic nature of Vince's addiction and his unpredictability, Stephanie explained staying in a hotel room might be the best choice for Chris, so he wouldn't have to deal with anything that might scare him away. He was the first good thing to stroll into her life in a long while, and she didn't want her father and his drinking habits to mess it up. Shane was pressing her to focus on finding a rehab facility in the area for Vince to go to, but she had put those plans on hold, because life was growing busy. She had been picking up extra hours at work whenever the opportunity arose, so all her free time when not behind the bar was spent hanging out with Lizzie, or talking to Shane or Chris over the phone.

That wasn't to say Vince's needs came last in line, but Stephanie deserved time to enjoy herself without having to organize someone else's life. Vince was an adult, and she would gladly lead him along, but she wasn't willing to do everything required to pull him out of his ultimate slump. It was rewarding to finally take some time out for herself and not have to play the parenting role to someone who was supposed to be stepping up and being a parent themselves. She slipped a compact mirror out of her purse and checked her appearance, noting her nose was tinged a rosy shade of pink, courtesy of the arctic weather outside.

She had already forewarned Chris there had been a snowstorm a couple evenings prior, but he reminded her he grew up in Winnipeg and dealt with freezing temperatures on a daily basis, so it wouldn't be a problem. She was in the process of mulling over how refreshing a steaming cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows would be when, suddenly, a pair of hands came to rest on her waist and spun her around. "Not that I'm complaining, but may I ask what's up with this little dance you're doing in front of the window?"

"Chris!" she shrieked, her ear-piercing volume earning a cringe from him as she snaked her arms around his midsection and held him close. "I'm so happy to see you, like, you honestly have _no_ idea!"

"I think I've got some idea," he laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She pulled away, and he poked her playfully in the stomach with the tip of his index finger, causing her to swat at him and smirk. Though it was only the third official face-to-face meeting they experienced with one another, they were picking up right where they had left off after all their phone discussions and managed to become an integral part of each other's lives. "I got in and was looking everywhere for you, but imagine my surprise when I looked over and found you doing a little wiggle, just for me."

"Hey, give me a break here," she smiled and slapped his arm lightly. "I always move around when I get nervous, but I wasn't nervous in a bad way. I was just so excited to be able to finally see you. It feels like it's been forever."

"It does, huh?" he agreed. Stephanie nodded and glanced down at his bags. "Oh, I've got everything, so if you're ready to go, we can. Did you eat this morning?"

"Do you even listen to me at all?" she asked teasingly. "We talked on the phone before you even got on the plane, and I told you I was waiting for you to get here so we could have breakfast together. At least now I know you tune me out when we're talking."

"I do not," he shot back, eyes shining in amusement. He began pulling his bags and motioned with his head for Stephanie to follow him. She readjusted her purse over her shoulder and strolled through the building at his side. "I was thinking we should have a small breakfast, because I want to take you out for a really big dinner tonight."

"You don't need to do that."

"I want to, though. I missed you, and we've only got a couple of days together, so I want to make them count."

"Aww," she reached up with her left hand and pinched his cheek, while he scrunched his face in a show of mock disapproval, "I missed you too. I wish you could stay at my house, and I guess you could if you really wanted to, but I'm just worried my dad will say or do something you won't like. He's super brazen and...yeah, I don't even really know what else to say about him."

"I'll do whatever makes you most comfortable," Chris offered. "The most important thing to me is that you have a good, stress-free weekend, and if that means I need to find somewhere to stay other than your house, then that's what I'll do."

"I think it's for the best, but only until I get him checked into rehab. Shane's been telling me to do that."

"I think that would be wise. Every time I talk to you, even on your good days, you sound stressed out, and you shouldn't have that kind of thing hanging over your head. You deserve to be happy and have a normal young-adulthood without having to take care of your dad," he pointed out. "I'm not saying it's ever a bad thing to be there for family, but you've gotta hand off the responsibility to professionals when you're dealing with addiction. That's something beyond the scope of what you can handle, and I know you know that."

"I do."

"I can help if you want me to check into some places. It's probably not really my business, but if it'll take some of the pressure off of you, then that's what I'll do."

"Thanks for standing by me."

Chris's eyes softened, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they walked together. "That's what I'm here for."

Within 15 minutes, Chris and Stephanie found themselves seated inside a restaurant located within the first few blocks of the airport. While Vince didn't ever stray too far from Stephanie's thoughts and she was constantly hoping he was doing well, she wanted to place her focus on having a good time with Chris. Their meet-up would end in the blink of an eye, so she had to soak it up for all it was worth in the brief time they had with one another. As she glanced over her menu, she felt his intense gaze on her but tried to ignore it long enough to decide what she wanted to eat.

His shoe tapped hers underneath the table and she smiled, but continued perusing the menu in hopes of finding something that would satisfy her breakfast cravings. In the time they had gotten to know each other, Chris and Stephanie had grown quite comfortable as far as saying what they felt without having to filter things out in fear of the other person not understanding. They had built a rapport over the past month, but talk had never crossed the line from friendship to a serious relationship. Stephanie could feel it brewing though, and figured it would only be a matter of time before what they shared would blossom into something a whole lot more meaningful.

There was already a flirtatious air to their interactions, which, if Stephanie was being honest, she had felt from the first time they met. Chris made it clear he had his eye on her from the very beginning, and fate was further closing the gap between them so they could get the happy ending that was meant to be from the start. When he tapped her foot once more, she glanced up with a silly grin and found Chris sending her an identical look. "What do _you_ want?" she asked, batting her eyelashes coyly.

"Your attention."

"You've got it."

Chris paused to take a sip of his orange juice, his eyes clicking with hers as he set his drink down. "I have some stuff I've gotta talk to you about at dinner tonight. You don't have to be completely formal, but try to dress up a bit, because I'm taking you to a really nice place. I already checked out the restaurants in this area before I even came up here."

"Really?" she asked, which was met with a nod. "Where are we going?"

"If I told you that, it wouldn't be a surprise anymore."

"I'm fine with that," she joked, shrugging her shoulders while Chris laughed.

"I'm sure you would be, but I want it to be special, so we'll talk about it later."

Stephanie considered letting it go and waiting until night fell upon them, but she was in a bold mood and figured she might as well go for it. Chris's strong gaze didn't unnerve her the way it used to, and now that they had grown closer, she felt she could speak to him earnestly, in a way she couldn't engage with most people. "Is the dinner going to have something to do with...us?"

Chris's eyes parted from the face of his menu as he blinked in rapid succession, as if he wasn't yet prepared to talk about what she was delving into. He had probably already planned the moment out exactly as he wanted it to happen, and Stephanie was ruining the meticulously laid method by displaying such a level of unabashed spontaneity. "Well...I...uh, I guess, yeah, it was supposed to be about us."

"Like, about us getting together?"

"Steph, come on," he chuckled, running a hand down his face, "you've gotta let me take the reins and do this when I'm ready. You're kinda messing up what I was gonna do tonight. Just wait, okay?"

"You don't have to ask me out in a formal way, if that's what you were thinking."

"Who says I was going to ask you out at all?" Chris asked, trying desperately to come off evasively, but Stephanie was having no part in it. She knew exactly what he was up to, and a month had been long enough of a wait. Every single time she answered one of his calls or chatted with him online, she awaited the single questioned she craved to hear for weeks on end, but it never came. She tried valiantly not to be disheartened and told herself Chris would ask when the time was right, and never had there been as much of a suitable time as right then.

"You basically just admitted it," Stephanie laughed. "I don't think it's a big deal, so just ask me already."

"I want to be fair to you in all this," Chris said, pausing as he worked up the appropriate words to explain what he was contending with. "I'm on the road all these days out of the year, and you live here. When I'm off the road, I live in Florida, so it's hard to, like, figure out how I would be home a reasonable amount of time and still get the chance to see you. I want a relationship, but I don't want to only visit with you a couple days out of the month. That's not right, and I can't expect you to wait around for me while I travel from show to show."

"You're worth waiting around for though, and, besides, it's not like I can't ever make the extra effort to fly out and see you. You shouldn't have the sole responsibility on your shoulders to come to me, so I'll try to get time off from work here and there so I can see you. If I run out of vacation time, I'll do what I did this weekend and ask if one of my co-workers can cover for me."

"I don't want you to use all your paid vacation time up, though. That makes me feel guilty," he pointed out. The pause button was pressed momentarily on their conversation when the waitress came over to take their orders, but as soon as she was gone, Chris was reaching his open hand out across the table. Stephanie grabbed it in hers, and he squeezed it as a show of support. "I've gotten close to you, and I always want us to be able to see each other, but not at either of our expenses."

"Yeah, but people make sacrifices for important relationships, and I'm willing to do that for us. You're talking as if it's a bothersome thing, but the flying back and forth would be worth it if I got to spend at least a couple weekends out of each month with you. I mean, I would hope we'd get more time than that, but you know what I'm saying."

"So, you're with me then?" Chris grinned. "We're really doing this?"

"I think we are," Stephanie confirmed, tacking a giggle onto the end of her words.

"You'll be my girlfriend?"

"I will."

"I can't wait to bring you to meet my dad. I've been telling him about you since the first time I saw you in that bar, and he's been wondering what kind of powers you've got to make me swoon over you like this."

"I can't wait to meet him," she responded, still clutching Chris's hand tightly in hers. "I could introduce you formally to my dad today or tomorrow, but I worry about you being in the same room with him. He's just...alcohol has changed his personality so much, and he's not even himself anymore. I don't want him to be rude, so, it's like, I'd rather just keep you away until my brother and I can get him some help."

"I understand, and it's okay if you want me to wait to come over to your house. It's a little hard for me though, because I wish I could spend time with you there, so I could get to know your regular stomping grounds, if nothing else," Chris explained. "It would be nice to just sit in bed with you and listen to music or watch a movie. It feels like that chance is being taken away from us, and I wish it wasn't, but, hey, you gotta do what you gotta do."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't ever have to be sorry, Steph. I'm not only taking you on, I'm taking your entire family," Chris reminded her. Stephanie couldn't prevent the smile from spreading across her face as she beamed at him from the opposite side of the table. "I want all of you, and that means everyone else in your life is included. It's a package deal, and whatever we have to do to make it through, we will. You're more than worth it."

"That's how I feel about you too. No matter what you have going on, I want to be in on it."

"You will. It's just like I said, we've gotta be creative about finding ways to be together so we can actually see each other every week. It won't be easy, but if anyone can pull it off, it would be us. We're such a badass couple."

"Oh my gosh," Stephanie rolled her eyes playfully before taking a sip from her glass.

"Admit it, you know we are."

"Okay, fine, we are, but I don't necessarily know that I would have used those exact words to describe us," she laughed. It was a relief to have someone in her corner, and not just any person, but a man as compatible for her as Chris. Their interactions flowed with ease, and they were able to settle in comfortably in the presence of each other without worry of clashing or lacking in chemistry. They were a couple for the ages, and Stephanie couldn't have been any more excited for the future than she was knowing Chris would be right by her side. "I'm so glad Lizzie brought me to Nitro to meet up with you. If she hadn't done that, we probably never would have talked again, and nothing would have come of this."

"Well..." Chris raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"I _might _have had plans in the works to visit the bar you work at again."

"Seriously, you were going to come back?" Stephanie asked, genuinely surprised by his admission.

"I told some of my friends about you, and they said I should go back to the bar and try to get your number one more time. I wasn't gonna be a creepster or anything, but I was gonna talk to you some more and see if we could make a connection," he admitted. "There was just something about you that made me feel like I had to know you. I just _had_ to know you."

"That's probably the sweetest thing any guy has ever said to me."

"It's true."

"It's crazy to think even if I hadn't found my way to you, you would have come back to me. I guess that means our relationship was really meant to be, wasn't it?"

"I have no doubts about that. Absolutely none."


	6. The Merge

Stephanie shrank away from the double doors of the rehabilitation center, turning her back to Chris and Shane as she covered her mouth with her right hand. The mass of brick that formed the foundation of the building was the only thing keeping her from collapsing in a heap on the ground. There had been countless conversations amongst Vince and Shane, just as she had spoken to him herself, and after a lot of nudging, and possibly even a bit of bribing, Vince had agreed to enter rehab for his alcohol addition. He had signed in without a fight no more than 10 minutes before, which was a surprised to Stephanie, because she had always known him to fight to the end in order to avoid things he didn't care to be a part of, but he seemed committed to healing.

Gone was the little girl who gazed up at her daddy with wide eyes and thought he had the power to save the world, replaced by a young woman who understood the relentless pull of life's worst temptations. Liquor had almost decimated the scattered remains of her family, and though she wished Vince had avoided the bottle to begin with, she was proud of the progress he was making. The day was rainy and cold, and work was looming over her head, as she had a six-hour shift to attend to later that afternoon. The last place in the world she wanted to be on her father's first day of rehab was work, but she would have to focus to make enough earnings to continue paying for their home.

She wanted Vince to have something promising to come home to, and the only way she could ensure that was by paying the bills, while also continuing to save every last extra penny she earned. A particularly bitter chill ran down her spine and she shivered, wrapping her arms more tightly around her shaking form. A hand came to rest on her back, and she knew without looking it was Chris, but she couldn't find the strength to raise her head. Of everyone in her family, Stephanie seemed to be taking the transition the hardest, perhaps because she had been the one to see Vince's descent into alcoholism up close and personal.

"Let's get in the car," Chris leaned in, kissing her ear lobe. In the short two months they had been together, Stephanie felt closer to him than almost anyone else on the planet, save for Shane. The difference was that she could talk to Chris more in-depth about the nightmare she had lived through and get an unbiased response in return. "It's cold out here, Steph. Let's go."

"He's in there," she moaned, pointing at the building.

"I know he is, and that's what you worked for, remember?" Chris said, rubbing up and down the length of her back, while Shane stood by. As it turned out, Shane had been a fan of Chris's wrestling and liked him from the moment they first met. She was thankful to have two of the most important men in her life by her side on a day of such sorrow, and especially since the three of them got along so well. "You wanted him to get the help he needed, and now he is. He'll be in good hands here."

"I'm a bad daughter. He doesn't want to be here, but I forced him into coming."

"I won't stand by and let you talk like that," Chris shook his head. "I watched you work your ass off to find the best rehab facility in this state, and then I watched you work yourself to the bone to make the money to be able to send him here. You've taken care of your dad every single day of your life, so I don't want to hear anything about you being a bad daughter. He's so lucky to have you. Everyone is lucky to have you."

Stephanie spun around and tossed her arms around Chris's waist, hugging him closely as she buried her face in his chest. He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head, leading her back to the car they had arrived in. Shane agreed to drive there and back, so he unlocked the doors and slipped into the driver's seat while Chris took the back with Stephanie. He had been in the front with Shane on the journey there, Chris's first in-person encounter with Vince, but he wanted to be by Stephanie's side on the way back to be sure she wouldn't lose her senses. Seeing as how she had made it thus far without falling to pieces, chances were that she would be fine, but he had to make certain.

Shane seemed to be assessing her emotional damage the entire way through the drive home, checking on them in the rearview mirror so many times Chris lost count. When Stephanie was in acceptable shape, he asked, "You gonna be okay, Steph?"

Before she could respond, Chris piped up, "She'll make it, emotionally _and_ financially. I'll make sure of that."

"I can't take your money, Chris," Stephanie shook her head.

"You're not taking it. You're accepting it as a gift, and I won't take no for an answer, so you might as well agree. You've done enough working, and now it's time to sit back and relax," he said, shifting his focus to Shane. "I'll make sure the house is paid off and that her monthly expenses are covered, no matter what amount they are."

"I can't let you do that," she said.

"She doesn't have a choice, Shane. Help me out and talk some sense into her."

"Well..." Shane began, "Chris and I had a talk about this, Steph, and he really wants to help. You've gotta learn when to back down and accept what someone's giving you. He wants to take care of you, so let the poor guy do that."

"How? With his hard-earned money?" she inquired.

"Absolutely with my hard-earned money," Chris piped in, leaning over to kiss her cheek. "You know what you mean to me."

"I do."

"So let me do this for you. I want you to be happy."

"I know, but I'm working anyway, so I might as well be putting my money towards the bills and stuff," she said, eyes widening when she took notice of the time. "Hey, Shane, do you think you can step on it a little? I have a shift in another hour and a half."

Shane cleared his throat, "You haven't told her yet, Chris?"

"Told me what?" Stephanie squinted, gazing between the two of them as Chris ducked his head down sheepishly. There was something in the air, a shift in mood, and the last thing she wanted was to receive bad news, but the fact that neither man would make eye contact with her was troubling. "Oh, great, what's wrong now?"

"Nothing," Chris said. He rubbed his hands down his pants in a continuous motion, a nervous habit of his, and Stephanie picked up on it right away, grabbing his closest hand in her own. He glanced over at her touch.

"The only time I ever see you do that with your hands in when you're about to tell me something and you don't know how I'll take it," she said. "If there's something going on, just get it out so I can figure out what needs to be done. I'm not some fragile little girl. I can handle _some_ stress, you know."

"I want you to quit your job," he rushed out.

"Wow, nice one, man," Shane jabbed, poking fun at the rushed manner with which he shared his idea.

"Shut up," Chris retorted good-naturedly. When his focus returned to Stephanie, she was holding her mouth slightly ajar, sizing up his declaration. "What do you say?"

"I don't hate my job, if that's what you think," she replied.

"I don't think that at all, but you work too hard, and I want you to slow down. Return to doing the things you enjoy. You're into hiking and gardening, but you never get to do that stuff, because you're always stressed. Let me take some of the load off of you so you can do the things that you find enjoyable," Chris offered. Stephanie couldn't believe his memory allowed for him to remember the things she had disclosed to him during their first phone conversation, but before she could cover her bases, Shane was cutting in.

"Hiking and gardening?" he laughed. "Since when? I can barely get her to go outside, and if she's a gardener, you may as well call me a rocket scientist."

Stephanie didn't want to do it, struggled so desperately to maintain an impassive expression, but her cheeks were on fire, and she knew they had to be burning scarlet. Chris couldn't seem to peel his eyes away from her, and she was left to do nothing but flush each and every shade of red that ever existed, glancing out of her window to avoid his probing gaze. Shane must have caught on when Stephanie didn't reply, because he stopped laughing and didn't question it further. Now, not only did Chris know what a liar she was, but Shane did, too.

Chris nudged her shoulder to get her attention, but she remained facing away, not able to bear looking him in the eye. He covered her hand with his own and stroked it, his silent way of letting her know he didn't care if she had fibbed about her interests. Perhaps he guessed there must have been a good reason she hadn't told him the truth, but if Stephanie was being honest with herself, there wasn't. She could have easily told Chris she no longer had time to do anything, not since the tornado of life ripped its way through her entire family.

An uncomfortable silence fell amongst them for the remainder of the ride home, and Stephanie hadn't ever breathed as long a sigh of relief as she did when Shane pulled into the driveway. She peeked at Lizzie's quiet house, already planning to go over and see her at some point during the day. Shane started to shut the car off, but Chris stopped him, grabbing the house keys out of Stephanie's lap and handing them off to him. "I know this is a lot to ask, but can you let yourself inside so I can take Steph for a quick drive? I need to talk to her."

"It's no problem at all, dude," Shane agreed, taking the keys. He slipped out of the driver's seat and Chris took his place, waiting for Stephanie to switch from the backseat into the front passenger side. Once Shane was safely inside the house, Chris backed out, pulling out of the neighborhood and onto the main road.

"Where are we going?" Stephanie asked.

"Just around the block," Chris answered. He reached across the seats and grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips, where he pressed a kiss to each of her knuckles. He brought their clasped hands down on his armrest and proceeded. "You know, I love who you are, or else I wouldn't have pursued you the way I did. There's nothing wrong with liking whatever you like, so if you're not really into hiking or gardening, you didn't have to tell me you were."

"I know," she admitted, her face starting to burning, just as it had before.

"Is there a reason you made it up?"

Stephanie took a moment to let her embarrassment die down before turning towards him, just as he rounded a corner. "I didn't want you to think I was boring."

"I've never thought you were boring, not ever."

"You asked what sorts of things I liked to do, and I didn't really have an answer because, the truth is, I wasn't sure," she admitted. "For so long, I was so focused on taking care of my dad that I didn't really have time to figure out what I liked, let alone did I get any spare time to do it. I could have answered honestly and told you that, but I thought you wouldn't like me anymore. If I came across boring or as a killjoy, you never would have wanted to date me."

"And how do you know that?"

"I just know."

"You're wrong," Chris disputed. "I haven't judged you at all in the time since we've met. If you had told me you didn't have time to do much, I would have understood, especially given your situation. You didn't know me well back then, so I can understand how you might have assumed I wouldn't respond well to that, but you should have been able to see how much of a crush I had on you. If you had known how I really felt, you never would have worried about me not falling for you."

"I'm sorry."

"I don't want you to be sorry. All I want is for you to feel comfortable enough around me that you don't think you have to put on a front to impress me. You're perfect the way you are, so don't ever let anyone tell you any differently."

Stephanie smiled and rubbed his arm with her free hand. "You're amazing."

"You're beautiful," he countered. Finally, Stephanie found herself blushing for all the right reasons, as she leaned across the seat and kissed his cheek. She pulled away, and Chris circled around, starting back towards her house, though there was still one major piece of business to discuss. She hadn't accepted the offer he made earlier, and he needed an answer one way or the other, although, he wasn't above trying to sway her if she gave a decision he didn't want to hear. "I believe we've got one more matter of business to attend to before I make it back to your house, so this has to be fast. About the whole money thing..."

"I don't know if I feel comfortable with it."

"Not even if I get you a job with me?"

Stephanie's laughter filled the car as she hunched over her seat and slapped at her knee. Chris didn't understand what she found so humorous until she said, "As a wrestler?"

He laughed and rolled his eyes playfully, "No, silly. I meant you could work for WCW as an assistant. I don't want you to agree to it if you feel like it's too hard working for the company that used to be your family's competition, but if you can get past that, I can work something out with Eric. I'm sure he'd take you on."

"You have a good relationship with him?"

"It's decent, sometimes better than others, but I know he'll do this for me if I ask. I could have a job secured for you by this weekend, and you could probably start next week or the week after," Chris said, his voice raising a few octaves the more excited he grew. "I know we haven't been together long, but I've never felt this way about anyone, and I want you with me. We could be on the road together, and you would be making good money. You'll be financially set, and we can fly in every weekend, or at least every other weekend so you can see Lizzie and check on your dad when he's allowed to have visitors."

"I don't know what to say."

"Say yes," Chris pleaded. "Shane and I talked about it already, and even he thinks it's a good idea, and he made it clear he doesn't normally like guys coming around and taking his little sister away. He trusts me, though."

"I trust you, too."

"Then please come with me," he urged. "You'll have the best time, and I can make Bischoff take you in as a traveling assistant, so you'll attend all the shows and see the world. We'll do it all together."

"And you don't think this is moving too fast?"

"Do you?" Chris wondered.

In life, rarely were second chances given, so she had to milk the opportunities as they came, before they went dry. Whether she would be with Chris years down the line was too early to determine, but the simple fact that she wanted to be was enough to convince her she couldn't turn him down. She hadn't gotten many shots at a happy life, and now that one was slapping her right in the face, she would be a fool to turn it down. Regardless of the outcome, she would never forget her experiences with Chris, and when he glanced over and found a smile forming on her face, he matched it with one of his own.

"I don't think it's too fast, no," she shook her head. "Can you drive me to work in a little while after I get dressed?"

His smile faltered, and he slowed the closer he came to the house. This wasn't the way he imagined their conversation ending. "You don't want to come with me?"

"Not until I work my final shift. I have to hand in my resignation, but I don't want to leave them without a bartender for this afternoon."

"Holy shit, I thought you were turning me down," Chris laughed, squeezing her hand the entire way back until he pulled into the driveway. "You won't regret this decision, I can promise you that. This is going to be one of the greatest things you've ever done for yourself."

"Hey, I just realized we can be roomies on the road."

"Yep, we'll stay together at the hotels and all that good stuff," he said. "We'll have dinner together every night, and whatever else you want to do. I want you to figure out whatever it is you love and focus on that whenever we're not at work. You should figure yourself out."

"Will Eric be nice to me when he finds out who I am?"

Chris waved her off, "He already knows who you are, and he doesn't care about the rivalry your family had going with him. The guy may not be a saint, but he's still got a heart, and he knows what you've been through. He's not going to give you any problems at all."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Well..." Chris's eyes darted around as he trailed off.

"What did you do, mister?" Stephanie asked, playfully poking him in the chest.

"I might have already spoken to him about the possibility of bringing you in. I didn't set anything in stone, because I wasn't sure what your response would be, but I did tell him you might be looking for work. He's reserving a position for you, just in case."

"I guess everything is coming together, isn't it?"

"Looks like it," Chris grinned.

He leaned in for a kiss, pressing his lips to hers before shutting off the car and accompanying her inside the house so she could get ready for work. Shane raised an eyebrow the instant they walked in, wondering what her answer had been, and they both nodded their heads to signify the favorable outcome. Shane gave Stephanie a hug, and Chris followed her to her room as she gathered her work clothing. It was the first time he had been in her bedroom since they began dating, and his heart swelled just a little more at the sight of a room that represented who she was as an individual.

"Is this really happening?" she asked excitedly, pinching her arm for show.

"You'd better believe it. Before you go to work, we should run over and tell Lizzie about our plans."

Stephanie's eyes lit up at that, "Okay," she said, gazing sentimentally around her room before crossing to her bed and taking a seat in the center of Chris's lap. He stroked her hair, and she leaned into his touch. "Things really _are_ going to be different from now on, aren't they?"

"They sure are. The tide is turning in our favor."


End file.
